


Everybody Loves Somebody

by eriathiel



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23544916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eriathiel/pseuds/eriathiel
Summary: Hancock went through hell and back to get Nora's favourite song into the playlist of Diamond City Radio, but it was all worth it to see her reaction.
Relationships: John Hancock/Female Sole Survivor, John Hancock/Sole Survivor (Fallout)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 42





	Everybody Loves Somebody

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea when listening to Dean Martin's "Everybody Loves Somebody", and it wouldn't leave me alone. First attempt at Fallout 4 fic!

It was the nicest place they’d found to hole up in for the night in a long time - featuring a mattress that wasn’t even on the floor and everything. They dropped their packs simultaneously, their nightly routine having developed a routine to it that Hancock would’ve never dreamed he’d find delightful before he met her. Going through the motions with a reverence that didn’t usually go with something that had become such habit, he moved toward the radio the room boasted (in less pleasant surroundings they made do with the one on the Pip-Boy - although sometimes they couldn’t risk it and resorted to talking in hushed tones through the night, which he enjoyed more than the music, if he was being honest) and switched it on while Nora battled to remove her boots. Hancock tried to catch a glimpse of the time on her wrist as she struggled. It was almost ten-thirty - he’d told that pain in the ass in Diamond City ten-thirty. All evening he’d pushed Nora to pick up the pace to find a place to turn in as quickly as possible, and finding only the lamest of excuses to make when she asked what exactly the rush was.

The Wanderer drew to a close and Hancock fought to look anywhere but at Nora as he waited eagerly for what he hoped would come next.

“You okay, Hancock?” She asked.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m good,” he said, straining to hear the voice on the radio.

“And next we have, uh, well, something new. I don’t usually like to mix it up but...well...some songs are just so good that you don’t have a choice,” the host spoke.

“Are you sure? You seem a little-” Nora pressed, but then frowned as she took notice of what was being said, turning her attention to that instead.

“Really no choice…” he added in a mutter “Anyway, this one’s for all our friends out there in the Commonwealth...I hope they’re listening.”

“What on earth was that all about?” She snorted.

Hancock wasn’t able to fight back a small, smug smirk, but when the song’s intro started up - a chorus of orchestral violins before Dean Martin’s voice joined in, crooning slowly “ _Everybody loves somebody sometime…_ ” - the smirk morphed into an all-out grin. Nora’s reaction was instantaneous. With a high-pitched noise of surprise tinged with delight she was on her feet, staring at the radio like she was certain it was some sort of hallucination. Then, the cogs began to turn and she turned to him slowly, face still a picture of astonishment. The stupid grin on his face was here to stay.

“John…” she said softly “You did this?”

How many record stores had he pulled apart with her in search of this one particular single? Every one between Sanctuary Hills and the wastelands to the south, he was sure. It was typical that when he had found it, he hadn’t even been looking for it - stashed with a handful of other singles and a pack of very stale cigarettes beneath the bedroom floorboards of a probably long-dead pre-war teenager. After all that, it was a cosmic joke that the hard part hadn’t even come yet. No, that was reserved for convincing the host of Diamond City Radio to play the damn thing. But what other option did Hancock have? Haul the thing around in hopes that they’d come across one of the few working record players left in the world, all the while praying that the damn thing wouldn’t take a bullet as it lay hidden in his pack before then? No, giving it to Travis and convincing him to integrate it into his usual setlist seemed the logical thing to do. He refused to present Nora with the record and watch her face light up, only to witness her devastation when the sort of inevitable accident that went hand-in-hand with their lifestyle befell it. There was no doubt in his mind that they wouldn’t be lucky enough to find a second copy.

However, even sneaking into the cesspit that was Diamond City hadn’t been the most difficult part - no, that role was reserved for resident radio host Travis Miles. Meek as the guy might have been, it turned out he was very particular over the playlist he’d procured over the years. Not just anything would make the cut, and it seemed Dean Martin’s rendition of Everybody Loves Somebody wasn’t up to his exacting standards. So Hancock had leaned on him a little. Okay, maybe a lot. It wasn’t like he would’ve actually hurt him, but he needed to understand that he hadn’t gone through all of that just to fall and fail Nora at the final hurdle. Listening to the little introduction the song had gotten, maybe he’d been too harsh on the kid, but if that was the price he had to pay to get Nora to look at him the way she was now, it was one he was delighted to pay.

“Might’ve had a hand in it,” he tried to play it cool, shrugging it off with a rough chuckle, but then she was yanking him into a hug and his gut started doing back-flips.

The first thing she’d done upon stepping through the door was peel the top half of the vault suit off leaving the blue fabric to hang around her hips, leaving her in the black tank top she wore beneath. When he hugged her back his hands rested between her shoulder blades, meeting skin as soft as silk. The cynical part of his brain - the one part that remained mostly unscathed by this damn infatuation - wondered if she really could be this perfect, or if he really was just in too deep. Both, probably. His hands dropped the moment he realised how rough they probably felt to her.

“When? When did you do this? You - you went into Diamond City?” She took his action as the end of the hug, stepping back and holding him at arm’s length to stare at him with wide eyes.

Were those tears in her eyes?

“When you had to go help Mac,” he admitted.

The second the two were out of sight, bickering like siblings, he’d gathered his shit, his disguise, and made the journey from Red Rocket to Diamond City, with mixed emotions of dread over setting foot in that hell-hole and excitement over the end goal. During his more denial fuelled hours since he’d pretended that it had just been a minor errand on his way to check in on how things were doing over in Goodneighbour, but he didn’t even believe himself on that score. Fahrenheit had things more than covered, there was never any shred of doubt concerning that.

“But...You came back from the direction of Sanctuary Hills,” she frowned.

“Looped round on the off-chance you got back before me. Glad I did, too.”

He’d half expected her to question the mud caked on his boots that he’d gotten in the process when they’d been reunited, but instead she’d given him a strange sort of half-smile and turned her attention back to her beloved dog. The sight of her playing with Dogmeat had almost been enough to undo the emotional hangover revisiting Diamond City had induced.

“I thought…” she paused and then gave a quiet laugh “I thought you had yourself a girlfriend over there or something.”

Was that why she’d offered to take Deacon on her this job and not him? Nah, Nora was too damn good for jealousy. Not that he doubted she was capable of feeling it - she might’ve been good but she wasn’t soulless - just that she wouldn’t take it out on him if she was.

“S’that why you offered to bring Deacon along on this one instead of me?”

He almost regretted asking the question once it was out there. Almost. It worked under the assumption that she’d have reason to be bothered by his, entirely fictional, Sanctuary Hills-dwelling lover. But it had been weird behaviour. Sure, there were times she took others along on her travels, but only when it had to be that particular person. She could hardly bring him along to handle MacCready’s business, could she? Or on a Railroad mission Deacon had specifically organised? But otherwise it was just the two of them, thick as thieves, out getting into whatever trouble they could, and Hancock loved it. Hell, nowadays he didn’t even ask if he’d be accompanying her for each new job that fell into her lap, he just packed his shit and they were off.

“I didn’t like to think that I might be keeping you from somewhere else you’d rather be,” she said sheepishly.

She said it so damn seriously, too, like being out on the road with her wasn’t his own personal idea of heaven. He might’ve laughed if she didn’t look so unsure of herself. It wasn’t a look he was used to seeing on Nora - sure, there were times she was serious, even solemn, but usually that side of her was reserved for dealing with people who needed help, and needed help bad. Otherwise she was quick to brush things off with a joke and a laugh. The only other time he’d seen her like this was on those nights they had to spend in silence, when their talks would take on a sort of vulnerability that only close quarters and a pitch black room could foster. It had been during one such talk that she’d confessed that casual sex wasn’t her thing.

“It’s just not for me,” she’d admitted - he remembered the exact words because they were the moment he’d resigned himself to having a snowball’s chance in hell of getting anywhere near her “I wouldn’t want to get involved with somebody unless I saw it going somewhere.”

It wasn’t something he ever would have expected from her. Of course, he respected it, but til that moment he’d never known Nora to be the type to only do something if there was a point to it. This was the woman who tried her damnedest to keep up with him when it came to chems, and would wander in circles around Red Rocket just for the hell of it if the sky was particularly pretty that night. It also signified the beginning of him gating off the possibility in his mind of anything potentially developing between the two of them. If she’d been one for casual relations, there always would’ve been the fantasy in the back of his mind of them falling into bed together one night just for the fun of it. There was even a time he’d kidded himself that that would be enough to get her out of his system. Now? Now he knew he was in too deep for that. But hell, had she been otherwise inclined he would’ve still taken whatever he could get. It seemed that wasn’t on the cards for them. What was the other option? Hope she might see him as someone things could ‘go somewhere’ with? No amount of chems in the world would make him think a day like that would ever come - nor should he want it to, if he wasn’t being selfish. Better she winds up with a guy like Preston, or some other lucky bastard whose face wouldn’t give her nightmares.

But he’d be damned if the look she was giving him in that moment didn’t make him doubt every cynical thought he’d ever had regarding the matter. It was almost enough to dredge up the opposing thoughts he’d had on the matter - the ones he only entertained when he was particularly high, drunk, or a winning combination of the two. Opinions regarding what was left of his face aside, Hancock was an observant man. It was a quality that kept him alive. He noticed things about people, and he was damn good at hazarding a guess concerning what those things might mean. The fact that he enjoyed noticing things about Nora was just a perk. Like how he made her laugh harder than any other of her friends who camped out at Red Rocket from time to time - red in the face, hunched over, crying kinda laughing. Or how she’d hug, pat, and prod everybody else til the brahmins came home, but the second he did so to her she’d go a shade of red that rivalled his coat.

‘ _Everybody finds somebody someplace, there’s no telling where love may appear_ ,’ the song continued.

“I don’t know how I could even begin to repay you for this,” she murmured.

Hancock chose that moment to do what he did best - well, other than killing - he lightened the mood.

“A dance’ll do just fine,” he extended a hand in an exaggeratedly grand manor.

‘ _Something in my heart keeps saying, my someplace is here_.’

Nora accepted his hand with a smile, stepping forward to rest her other hand atop his shoulder while his free one fell to her waist.

“A lover and a fighter, huh?” She teased.  
  
“Oh, you have no idea sweetheart.”

This was more their speed - the comfortable teasing and laughing, no awkwardness, no hesitation.

‘ _If I had it in my power, I’d arrange for every girl to have your charms_.’

Well, maybe not no hesitation. As they swayed in time to the music, proximity a little too close to be written off as strictly friendly, Nora’s eyes met his, then flickered almost imperceptibly to his lips, then back again, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. The pessimist in Hancock was telling him to look away - to take a step back, to crack a joke, anything to diffuse the tension steadily rising between them. But the rest of him was steadfastly refusing, knowing full well if he didn’t wait to see how things played out at the very least, he’d look back on this moment for the rest of his entire damned life and curse himself for not seizing it.

‘ _Then every minute, every hour, every boy would find what I found in your arms_.’

It was then that Hancock remembered he wasn’t much one for waiting. Pausing for less than a split second, just to make sure she really was giving him that look and he hadn’t dreamt it up, he gave a low, almost imperceptible growl. Then he dipped his head and kissed her.

Til now making the first move had never been something he much thought over. It was like asking somebody if they wanted to grab a drink at The Third Rail. If they said yes there was a fun night ahead, if not, well, he’d find someone else to fill the spot. No big deal either way. But this was different. This was Nora. This was more. There was no use in pretending otherwise at this point, not with the way his heart was threatening to burst out of his chest.

And then she melted into the kiss.

The song kicked up into the crescendo of the final chorus ‘ _Everybody loves somebody sometime, and although my dream was overdue…_ ’

He was dreaming. He’d gotten so high he passed out and he’d have to find more of this particular chem the moment he woke up if these were the kind of hallucinations it induced. One of his hands wove its way into her hair just like he’d been dying to do for far too long, the other sliding down to the small of her back, keeping her nice and tight against him. Nora kissed him back with a fervour that he could never have dreamt up, anchoring herself with one hand grasping his shoulder while the other cupped the side of his face as her lips moved eagerly against his. It took everything in him to suppress a moan, like some sort of pathetic teenager.

‘ _Your love made it well worth waiting, for someone like you_.”

As Dean Martin’s velvet voice faded out the kiss ended, and Nora took a half-step back, hands smoothing over the lapels of his coat as if to find an excuse to keep touching him.

“Just...to, uh, clarify,” she murmured and he tried not to chuckle at the formality of her tone “...Not casual?”

“Most certainly not casual, sweetheart,” he replied.

The smile on her face must’ve been brighter than the blast of the bombs that started all this as she gave a small nod “Good. Good...I-”

The voice of Travis Miles cut her off “And, uh, well, let’s have it one more time - just to really drive the point home. Not a song you want to miss, ladies and gentlemen, not a song I want anyone to...miss...so here goes, one more time.”

They both started laughing at that, although they still couldn’t quite keep their hands from one another, as if letting go would turn this all into a dream they’d soon wake up from.

“What did you say to him?” She asked, tone tinged with humour.

“Might’ve overdone it a little,” he admitted “Worth it, though. You might end up getting sick of it if he keeps this up, though.”

Nora closed the gap between them once more, pressing a feather-light kiss to the hollow of his throat “I don’t think I will.”

Standing there with her in his arms, somehow Hancock had a feeling he wouldn’t either.


End file.
